It's Always Sunday Somewhere in the Pegasus Galaxy
by LdyAnne
Summary: Radek and Rodney say goodbye to Carson.


The day was grey and there was a light mist coming down, it was a perfect day for a funeral. For Scottish weather, it was positively balmy.

Radek stood staring down at the gravestone, for once in his life at a loss for what to say. He reached out to run a hand over the stone. It was marble, smooth and cold under his fingers.

The gravestone read, "Carson Beckett – Beloved Son and Gentle Healer." It didn't do justice to who Carson was, but there was no way to fit it all on the stone, no matter how grand it may be.

"Carson," he began and then had to stop when his voice broke. Swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat he continued, "I do not know what to say. I do not like goodbye, it should not be goodbye." The emotion began to rise within him again and Radek paused to get himself under control before he could go on.

"This is not right. It was only a few days ago when I saw you last… I keep thinking you are going to appear around the corner and invite me to go fishing… If only…" his hand on the stone curled into a fist and Radek began to lose his fight with the tears that kept welling up.

A hand on his shoulder surprised him and he turned to find Rodney standing behind him. Rodney's eyes were red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.

"I should have gone fishing with him, you know," Rodney said quietly. He looked so sad and empty. They had all lost so much over the last three years. Losing Carson was almost more than any of them should have to bear. Yet, a grief-stricken Rodney McKay was hard to face. Radek put his own grief away to help his friend. He had had much grief over the years to deal with; he knew how to get through it. Rodney… not so much.

"You can not say that," Radek told Rodney sternly.

Rodney blinked at him as if just realizing that Radek was standing there.

"It's the truth," he insisted bitterly, his voice hollow. "If I hadn't been so selfish and just gone fishing with Carson, he wouldn't be dead now." Rodney was always loud and bombastic, bigger than life, but now his voice was low and quiet, his body drawn in upon itself, as if he hoped that no one would see him in his grief.

Radek reached out and shook him a little. "No, this is not the truth," he spoke earnestly hoping to penetrate Rodney's grief. "We have seen so much death since traveling to the Peg…"

Even in his grief Rodney knew they couldn't speak of classified matters and his glare cut Radek off midstream.

"Fine!" Radek bit out. "I have seen much death and there is nothing you can do about it." He turned Rodney to face him, "If you and Carson had gone fishing, how many others would have died?"

It was a trick he had learned early on when dealing with Rodney – when his mind would fasten on something and get stuck in a rut, to distract him with something else. It worked this time. Radek could practically see the wheels turning in Rodney's mind as he thought about the question.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.

"If you and Carson had gone fishing, who would have found out about explosive tumors? What if you had not been there to figure out what caused first explosion? What if no one knew that Dr. Watson was also affected and he had blown up in infirmary full of people?" Radek continued relentlessly even though Rodney's shoulder stiffened under his hand.

"What are you saying, Radek?" Rodney asked. "We should be glad that only Carson died?"

Radek sighed. Rodney was difficult with everything, why would grief by any different?

"No," he said patiently. "I am saying that Carson died doing what he was born to do, saving lives. There is no better legacy for him, I think."

Rodney seemed to crumple then. "I know," he said. "I'm just going to miss him, you know?" There was a plaintive, lonely tone in Rodney's voice.

"We all will," Radek said, squeezing his shoulder a little. "Come, is there not to be some sort of party in his honor?"

"It's called a wake. Geeze, Radek, don't you ever listen?" Rodney did his very best to rally, but he just wasn't up to his usual snarky self.

It was a relief that he tried. Rodney had been very un-Rodneylike lately and it was beginning to spook everyone who knew him. "Well, then we can not let them begin without us, can we?"

They turned and began the walk back to the car where the rest of their friends waited.

Behind them, the gravestone stood as a lonely testament to Carson Beckett – Beloved Son and Gentle Healer.


End file.
